


Subtext

by moodymarshmallow



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 00:36:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1367440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodymarshmallow/pseuds/moodymarshmallow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leif Hawke has been flirting with Varric since they met, and Varric is more than willing to give him what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Subtext

There were few good places to be in Kirkwall in the summer, but Varric's suite at the Hanged Man was one of them. His furniture, primarily stone, retained a good bit of coolness from the night long into the sweltering day, while the high ceilings let heat rise far above the floor, and provided ample shade for those inside. Needless to say, the minute it got so warm that Gamlen's entire hovel smelled like sweat and mold, Leif Hawke relocated to Varric's suite, taking him up on the offer that, while serious, was not meant to be permanent.

The improved temperature did nothing to keep Leif cool. It might have, if not for a particularly heated night of cards and brandy that ended with Leif on his knees in Varric's bed, his upper body pressed flat to the pillows, his thighs spread wide while he lay there stark naked and flushing hot. Leif, by Varric's estimation, had the sort of body only found in idealized Orelsian statuary. The muscles in his shoulders were taut and defined, while his on his flat belly you could easily count his abdominal muscles--it was rather appealing.

"Swinging around that obscene sword has been good for you," Varric murmured fondly from behind him, where he ran one big hand along the inside of Leif's thigh. Leif made an incoherent noise into the pillow, and Varric chuckled, wiping his sweaty hand on his trouser leg. "You're going to ruin my sheets sweating like that. Do I need to get Blondie in here to cast some kind of ice nonsense on you?" Leif shuddered, and Varric raised a curious brow, filing that reaction away for later. "Stay in that position. I'll be right back."

Varric slid off of the bed to walk into his front room, pulling open one of his many chests and eyeing the contents, tapping his lower lip with one finger in thought. He settled on the jar from The Blooming Rose, as it was, after all, the only thing he was looking for. He palmed it and turned back to his bedroom to see Leif still propped in the same position, obscenely presenting his ass to the open door. One corner of Varric's lips twitched up in a wry smile as he passed through the door, locking it behind him.

He tossed the jar onto the bed and climbed up behind him, watching the muscles in his back and thighs tighten and immediately release. "Relax, Chuckles," he said kindly and gave his ass a good pat before unscrewing the jar to dip his fingers into the herbaceous salve.

"This just...isn't how I envisioned this," Leif murmured, and though his face was shoved into a pillow, Varric could imagine the nervous glance and the rising flush.

"Well, you're lucky I have a good imagination, then." After slicking his fingers with the salve, he slid one between Leif's cheeks and carefully pushed it inside. Despite the pillow, Varric heard him suck in a quick breath and hold it. "Relax," he whispered again, leaning forward and over him to gently squeeze his shoulder.

Relaxing by small degrees, Leif sighed. "I've just never...I usually...I don't really bottom," he finally managed to say.

"First time for everything," Varric said cheerfully as he took advantage of Leif's eased tension to thrust his finger inside, giving him time to adjust before removing it, folding his middle finger over his first and pressing them in slowly. Leif mumbled something about the Maker into the pillow, but Varric couldn't make it out. Holding back another kind laugh, Varric slipped his hand around Leif's hip to loosely grip his cock, pleased to find it fully hard, a bead of pre-cum wet on his thumb as he rolled it in a circle around the tip.

"How long are you going to do that?" Leif asked, an urgency in his voice that put an even bigger smile on Varric's face.

"Trust me, you want me to take my time." Varric released his cock and gave his thigh a squeeze.

Once he felt there was no more he could do with his fingers, Varric slipped them out and swatted Leif playfully on the ass. "On your back, Chuckles." He unlaced his trousers while Leif, still beet red from ears to sternum, flipped over onto his back, tilting up his head to watch Varric slide to the side of the bed to step out of his trousers and smalls.

" _Oh_ ," said Leif, with an undertone of sudden understanding as his gaze traveled down from Varric's furry chest to his hard, long, and impressively girthy cock.

"Mm-hmm." With another scoop of the salve, Varric gave his cock a stroke or two before positioning himself between Leif's legs, grabbing one of them behind the knee and pushing it up.

"I-I'm not sure I can..."

Varric raised a brow and paused, "I can stop, if that's what you want."

"No, no." With an exasperated sigh, Leif draped an arm over his eyes. "It's just embarrassing," he muttered.

Varric leaned over him, pushing his legs to his chest as he moved to pluck his arm off of his eyes. "You're adorable," he said with a grin, and with one hand cupping the back of Leif's sweaty head, he kissed him soundly, encouraged by Leif's instantly parted lips, by the arms thrown around his broad back and short fingernails pressing to his skin. Without sitting up much, Varric maneuvered a hand between their bodies to grip the base of his cock and guide it, slowly and carefully, inside of Lief, dropping his head to kiss his neck when he tossed his head to the side.

"Andraste's flaming ass," Leif groaned, his toes curling as he gripped Varric's back more tightly, trying to catch his breath at the sudden strangeness, the fullness, the slightly uncomfortable ache.

"Almost there," Varric murmured softly into his neck, and Leif covered his face with a hand as a hard shiver ran down his body. "Take a minute to get used to that," Varric said, sitting up slightly to brush his hand off of his face again, stroking his hair, nuzzling to his temple lightly.

"I'm not sure if I can," Leif said with an absurd laugh, lifting his hands to stroke Varric's loose hair and pull him in for another fond kiss. "Alright. Just. Slow."

Sliding one arm under the small of Leif's back, to lift him slightly, Varric sat up, pushing one of Leif's spread thighs aside by loosely gripping his knee as he rolled his hips back, then forward, sliding his cock out to the glans, then pushing in deeper than before. Leif arched, gasped, and Varric smiled affectionately. This certainly wasn't what he'd had in mind when he decided to convince Hawke to help the expedition, but the heat inside Hawke's body was tremendous and sweet, and he could watch his face, flushed, lip-biting, and dissolving into pleasure for hours.

"I'm going to write a sonnet about this," Varric said, low in his throat, his breath coming quicker now. "So everyone in Kirkwall knows what it feels like to fuck you." Leif shuddered, his pale eyes rolling back into his head. "But they won't really know, will they?" Varric whispered against his neck. "I'll have to keep a little of that to myself." Leif clutched to him, shifting his hips up and wrapping his legs around Varric's thick waist, crying out when Varric increased his speed, moving to brace himself forward on his hands since Leif was holding to him so tightly. "The entire tavern is going to hear you."

"Harder," Leif said with a groan, and Varric felt no reason to deny him. He bucked into him, drawing a gutteral groan from him with every thrust. Just as Varric, growing dizzy and breathless, found the edge and tumbled over it, he felt Leif arch against him, digging terribly short nails hard into his back. Varric relaxed onto him briefly as he caught his breath, gently reaching up to detach Leif's hands from his back. Sitting up, he snaked his hand between their bodies to bring Leif off, only to feel him jerk away, hissing inwardly.

Varric sat up, slowly sliding himself out of Leif and realizing that he'd already came, and now lay relaxed and limp, spread out on his back. "Now that," Varric said between deep breaths, "is the sort of reaction I like to see from my audience."

"If that's what it's like to be in the audience, I'd hate to be in the book," Lief said breathlessly, and Varric laughed.

"Oh, you're in the book, Chuckles." Varric kissed him on the forehead. "You weren't supposed to be the main character, but here you are."

"Wonderful," Leif said, reaching up to push Varric's sweat-damp hair out of his eyes. "I needed that," Leif murmured, and Varric sat up.

"Don't get all sentimental on me. I'm still charging you for the sheets." He turned his back to Leif, ostensibly to put some trousers on and get Leif's pipe from his discarded jacket, but primarily to hide the flush on his cheeks, and to stop himself from saying _I needed that too_.


End file.
